


Trip to Market

by orphan_account



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19423957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Albus tries to leave all that happened that summer in the past. His first step? Get out of the house.Unfortunately he runs into a Mr. Brown, a neighbor from down the road, who refuses to let the past die.





	Trip to Market

He had tried.

Albus had tried so desperately to pull himself back on his feet after it all.

To move forward and past was the only option he saw out of that hell. And though he knew the way out, it was impossible for him to move. The neighbor Bathilda Bagshot had tried her best. But how could she know that the sight of her only reminded Albus more of what he had lost. It had been Bathilda who had called upon her, Albus’s aunt. It had taken a visit from his Aunt Honoria to slowly begin the process.

Even after a month, Albus’ nose was still sore and his heart was still broken, the only reminders to him that the summer had actually happened as it did.

After two months Albus felt finally ready to leave the house, on a short trip to market.

If anyone from Hogwarts were to see him now he was sure they would not recognize him. His hair had grown tremendously, aging him beyond the youth he was.

It did not seem as though Mr. Brown from down the way had any troubles though, “Albus.” He said, his voice surprised, as Albus felt it would be for anyone he would meet along the way, “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Hello, Sir.” Albus greeted back, not at all placing too much focus on the older man but just enough as not to be rude.

“I’m so glad to see you.”

Blue eyes finally looked up to the stopped figure, drawn by the uncharacteristically pleasant tone, “I didn’t think I would have been missed so.”

“Of course you have.” The man spoke comfortingly, gently, “How are you?”

It did not sound like the Mr. Brown he had known. Though, much had changed… people change…

And Albus realized suddenly how terrible of an idea this may have been. Perhaps he was not yet ready to venture outside. 

Albus caught the older man looking toward his vest pocket, as though he could see inside at its contents. He felt a sudden sense of shame as he placed a hand over his heart. 

There, underneath a layer of fabric lay a vial of blood, a promise. A weight he now had to carry with him for an eternity.

The villager’s eyes were ever fleeting, and he soon returned Albus’s gaze, “I’m so sorry.”

And Albus knew to that which he was referring.

_Ariana_

Mr. Brown had not been at the funeral. Not many had, and why should they. The Dumbledore’s had never given anyone any reason to befriend them. That being said, at this point Albus was sure everyone in the village probably knew of his sister’s passing.

“Thank you.”

But that did not seem enough, “I really … If you, even your brother, need anything at all-“

“We are fine.” Albus found himself saying all too quickly.

This seemed enough to quiet the older man, at least on that topic, he instead cleared his throat, “What happened to that boy you were spending so much time with over the summer?" His voice did not seem all that curious.

And Albus knew it was only an attempt to change conversation, “Gellert? I wouldn’t know, we were not all that close."

“Ah, I see.” The old man lifted a trembling hand, nodding to himself as he brushed a leaf that had fallen onto his sleeve. His voice wavered slightly as well …

_Pity?_

How Albus had discovered he hated it.

"Strange though.” The man seemed to wonder, “Whenever I saw the both of you, there was never a time you were not laughing and chatting. How can it be that you were not close?" He took a moment’s pause, seeming to consider something to say more.

And Albus, wishing for their conversation to be over, spoke a lie, “In truth, his aunt, Professor Bagshot, asked me to be kind to him. He had been through so much up until that time and was in need of a friend." And what a lie it was. In fact Albus had begun to suspect that Bathilda had introduced him to Gellert because she thought that of him, not of Gellert, “I’m sure you have heard the rumors, of the troubles he had gotten into at Durmstrang.” Word traveled fast in such a small place, Albus was sure he was not speaking that which had not already been heard.

“Really.” Mr. Brown seemed to feign surprise, strengthening Albus’ case, “No, I hadn’t. I didn’t have much of a chance to get to know the lad as you did.”

“Count yourself among the lucky.” And as Albus spoke those words, he felt a pull on his heart. It had been a thought that had been buried deep in his mind for the last few months.

_If I had never met you-_

Never would he have considered saying such a thing aloud, not to anyone. Yet there it was, spoken to practically a stranger.

A silence fell between the two, something Albus was glad for as he suddenly felt exposed and out of control of himself.

“Where were you headed now, dear boy?”

“To market.” Albus replied, remembering his initial mission.

“How strange, so was I.”

Albus became confused by this, “But Sir, you were walking in the opposite direction.”

The elder laughed melancholically, “And that is what happens when you get older. You sometimes forget.”

“But you are still young.”

“Indeed.”

Despite his better judgment, Albus asked, “Would you like to walk with me?”

Mr. Brown only nodded, following Albus as he continued on, this time at a slower pace to match his companion.

They walked in silence, though it was anything but comfortable.

That discomfort would soon be over as they were almost to the market stands.

They turned into an alleyway, alone from the world, and this was when Mr. Brown spoke once more, “Is it really true what your brother said?”

“About?”

“Was he an escape for you, nothing more?” The old man spat, quickly taking hold of Albus, pulling him forward and then away again in a swift motion.

Albus was unprepared as his shoulder crashed against a wall, completely disarmed by the sudden harsh and fluid action.

It took only a moment’s time for Albus to regain his orientation. He felt it… something missing…

Looking up he found the answer as to what-

Mr. Brown held the troth in his hands, displaying it with a bitterly triumphant smile, "You can take everything else. But this is mine now. You can break all of our ‘promises’, but I will not let you break this one."

Albus saw now that which he hadn’t… _Gellert?_

The man disappeared before his eyes, before Albus could even open his lips to speak, leaving him to piece together what had happened. Albus slid down that painful yet supportive wall, coming to rest at it’s base as he ran through the last few minutes in his mind. 

Over and over.

Finally resting on a decision.

No. It had not been Gellert.

Perhaps the other already had a follower who was acting on his behalf?

Perhaps it had just been a common thief?

Whatever had happened, Albus found that though the vial itself was far from his heart, he could feel a phantom presence of it lingering in his breast pocket.

And though his nose would heal soon enough, he found his heart to be much less mendable. 


End file.
